I think I've always been a nomad. Maybe that's where my "gypsy" comes from. When I get stressed, when I get overwhelmed, and sometimes just...for no reason, I need to GO.
I remember as a child, this urge wasn't as strong. However, I always played that I was on a wagon train, leaving the world I knew behind and going West to an unknown land. Or I pretended I was a reporter on assignment writing amazing news about far-away lands. I dreamed of going to Space Camp and growing up to be an astronaut. Star Trek and Star Wars were my favorite fantasies. Lost in Space sounded like pure heaven. The knights of medieval times going on their quests. Lewis and Clark exploring the new land.
I wanted to be exotic. I hated my bland white skin and mousy hair and mismatched eyes. I was boring. I wanted to be beautiful. Some other skin tone, wild textured curly hair, any eye shape besides boring old round (as long as they matched. I have a round one and an almond one. What is that about??) I wanted to learn new languages. I wanted to be anything but a poor white girl from southeast Missouri.
Don't get me wrong. I loved my family. I loved my life. My childhood was wonderful. I just wanted....more.
As I got older I loved long walks down our dirt road. Alone. Just me and my thoughts. Or in high school I loved to go for a run or a long bike ride with my best friend. We wouldn't talk. We'd just go. No words were necessary.
This mostly stopped when I became an adult. I don't remember the drive to wander being so strong. Maybe because my now ex-husband moved us literally every year to year and a half. (I just turned 43 and will be moving out of my 33rd residence soon. This is not an exaggeration.) Or maybe because I was too busy raising kids, homeschooling, then working long hours. Maybe it actually was still there, made evident by the field trips, hikes, and camping trips.
However, after my divorce a few years ago, I discovered this weird thing about myself. One day I was really wishing I could go see Denali, my favorite mountain. But I didn't know of anywhere nearby where he was visible. Until my boss mentioned that there was a breathtaking view just about 30-45 minutes away. I had time to kill that afternoon, so I took off right after work. That short drive was amazing. I cranked up my music and drove and sang and let my hair blow in the wind of the open window. I stopped and took photos wherever I wanted. I stopped for ice cream all by myself. And I prayed. And I cried. And I rejoiced. And I felt cleansed. I felt renewed.
I felt alive.
Since then, I will sometimes feel the draw. I say my gypsy is calling. I say my gypsy is demanding a trip. I often can't explain it.
Tonight my husband and I were discussing how I desperately want to take a day trip tomorrow. Except that our lives are in turmoil right now. We have 2 vehicles that aren't running at all and a third that does well to limp around town. We have currently borrowed my father-in-law's vehicle to help us move things into storage, and that's the only vehicle we have that could possibly make the trip. However, I'm not about to ask to drive that one 2 hours away. I don't want that kind of responsibility. I'd never forgive myself if something happened to that truck. And besides, borrowing that truck was not for my pleasure, but for necessity. And obviously a trip 2 hours away isn't a necessity. To normal people, anyway.
My husband asked tonight WHY I felt I needed this trip. Why did I want to go? I wasn't sure what to say, other than that I just DO. I used the word I always use....escape. I just need to escape. I just need to run away and blow off some steam. Doesn't he ever want to just go and have fun and forget everything? He said yes of course he does. But he also knows that he has responsibilities and has to do the smart thing. I sighed deeply and said that I know. I of all people know. That's all I ever do. 2 jobs. Work 7 days a week between the two of them. Zero fun. Ever. Yeah, I got it.
Later, after he was asleep and as I was trying to shake the gloom that settled over me during that conversation (otherwise known as trying to calm my gypsy) it hit me. I know why I have to drive. I know why I need a solo day trip. It isn't escape at all.
I drive because that's how I reconnect with myself. When I lose touch with who I am, when I find myself lost in the sea of other people's expectations, when I can't see my way out of a tunnel with no light at the end...that is when I feel the cry of the gypsy. That's when I get restless. That's when I have to drive and sing and pray and cry and rejoice. That's when I have to go and get some clarity.
I'm not escaping. I'm uncovering. I'm digging out. I'm pushing through the muck and finding the sun so I can bloom again.
Unfortunately, I will not be taking my deeply needed day trip tomorrow. I am trying very hard to be ok with that. As always, I will get over it. My gypsy will not be pleased and tomorrow will likely be a struggle. But it does feel good to have this epiphany. I don't need to escape. I just need to reconnect. I need to reboot myself.
I need to find ME again.
“Like a flower she grows towards the light, without thinking or examining the process which moves her to do so. I wish I could do the same.”
― Joanne Harris, Chocolat
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